Blooming: Part 4
By the time Xander Carter was twelve years old, he already towered above his classmates, his parents, and most importantly, his elder brother Damian. The extra few feet attached to the top of his body always seemed to help him find other people in crowds or get things off of tall shelves. But for the love of god, his height was no help in finding his damn keys! He could vividly- well, maybe fuzzily- remember taking them off the hook by the garage and putting them in the pocket of his jeans. And now the damn things seemed to have grown wings and flown off the face of the planet. Rose had already left for the pharmacy and Isaac was asleep seeing as how it was hours into the somber darkness that appeared so early in the evening during the winter months.
He eventually found his keys next to a note that Rose had left him on the kitchen counter. Even though she was just 19, Rose had already been a better stand-in mom to Isaac than his ex-wife Maria had ever been. The cruel bitch had taken off right after Isaac had been born. She had practically thrown the baby at him the moment she had been discharged from the maternity ward. The next and last time he had set eyes on her was when she stormed into the house at an ungodly hour a few days later to pack up all of her stuff. Drunk out of her mind, she irritably stumbled out of their house declaring that they would never see each other again and that she had no desire to see Isaac ever again. Having to explain to a sobbing 10 year old Rose that her mother was never coming back was one of the hardest conversations of his life. Of course Xander knew what had lit the spark that sent his marriage into ruins, but he refused to burden Rose with any of his mistakes. He was reliving the nightmare in his dreams so often that he felt no need to bring the topic up voluntarily during the daylight.
Careful so as to not wake Isaac with his heavy footfalls, Xander silently made his way out the front door of the house, ensuring to lock the door tightly behind him. He could never be too careful, especially considering the kind of neighborhood they lived in. Sure, he could take a criminal in a fight; he was a tall and lean man with an intimidating face that could make anyone think twice before trying to start something with him. Xander had considered dating other women after Maria left almost 10 years ago, but honestly, he was struggling enough keeping his small family of 3 afloat. He couldn’t even fathom dragging another innocent person into the mess that was his life.
As Xander neared his car that was parked in the street in front of their small house, he prayed that his keys would actually unlock his car. He had bought the junky 2002 Grand Jeep Cherokee for less than a 3rd of what it had originally sold for. When he had heard that a friend of his was selling it for that low of a price, he considered it a blessing, and the fact that it was black was just a bonus. In his line of work a dark colored vehicle could be the difference between jail, death, or money. Thankfully, the car unlocked on the 2nd try, and Xander clambered in. He first checked the glove compartment to ensure that what he had placed in there last night was still there. He stared down at 3 plastic bags, one filled with familiar little white rectangles, one with blue circles, and another with pink circles. His only task tonight was to drop this shipment of Xans, LSD, and uppers in a trash can on the edge of Rocky Run park, and then wait for confirmation that the shipment had been received.
…
As Xander walked briskly through the middle of the park, shipment in hand, he pulled his jacket closer around himself. The winter months were his least favorite because when it was cold he swore he could feel his right leg acting up from his previous injuries. He confidently approached the trash can with the yellow dot spray-painted on the lid. To a typical passerby it looked inconspicuous, but to him and any other gang member in the area it was the symbol of a drop and pickup site. Xander dropped the bags into the trashcan and promptly turned on his heel and walked back the way he had come. He checked his watch on the walk back to his car and found that just like always, he was precisely on time for the drop. People always said that they envied him for his punctuality, but he knew that it stemmed from his time in the AirForce. To him, punctuality was not a benefit that was worth the brutal scars, both visible and not, that were left on him from his 6 year stint in the military.
He had joined at the age of 20 after 2 years of not being able to obtain a decent job with only a high school diploma. At least, not a job that could support both himself and his family. He had first met Maria in high school during their freshman year, but they hadn’t really started dating until their sophomore year. At which point fate decided to screw him over and Maria became pregnant with Rose while they were both still only 16 years of age. College was never an option for either of them as children are the neediest creatures. Rose was always breaking things and then looking up at him afterwards with her big green and brown eyes and melting his heart into mush. Leaving Rose to join the AirForce was one of the hardest decisions of his life, but he ultimately knew that if he wanted her to have a future, he needed to sacrifice a few years with her. He had only planned to be gone for 2 years which was equivalent to 1 tour in Afghanistan. But then when it was over and he had enough money to support their family for at least another year or two, he decided to sign up for another tour. And then another. And then for his last.
…
When Xander finally arrived home at 6 am, he found Rose in the kitchen eating a snack after just returning home from her night shift at the local pharmacy. He felt bad that Rose had never gotten the opportunity to do anything real with her life. He just didn’t have the money to pay for Rose to go to college. Even if his brilliant daughter managed to score a full ride scholarship, he still wouldn’t be able to come up with money to pay for her living space and meals throughout the week.
“Hey, honey. How was work tonight?” Xander asked.
“Oh, you know, same old same old,” Rose answered tiredly. “How was your night, Dad? Did everything go well?”
“Yeah, just a typical shipment. Some LSD, Xans, and Uppers,” Xander said.
“Dad, I bet you don’t even know what uppers are really called,” Rose laughed.
“Well, of course I don’t. I’m not a nerd like you who studies those things for fun,” Xander teased.
“Well, I’ll have you know that I enjoy learning new things, thank you very much. And for your information, they are called Methylenedioxymethamphetamines, not that you could even spell that,” Rose replied haughtily.
“You sound so sleep deprived you could just be making that up,” Xander chuckled. “Why don’t you head to bed after you finish your snack. I need to take Isaac to school and when I come back you had better be asleep, Rosie.” After kissing Rose on the forehead, he walked into Isaac’s room to get the 3rd grader up and dressed so that he could get Isaac to school on time.
…
At 8 am, Xander Carter was finally able to collapse into his soft and welcoming bed. He was exhausted but fought a familiar battle with sleep, frightened of what would happen once he finally closed his eyes.
“Medic!” Xander screamed on instinct. But they were alone together in the middle of the Afghan desert, surrounded only by the enemy. His throat was raw like sandpaper and his eyes were filled with gritty sand. His eyes lay upon the barely breathing body of his best friend Elijah. He heard the deafening sound of the empty desert ringing in his ears. All he could see was the blood seeping from the gaping gash in Elijah’s abdomen, where a blade of the propeller had slashed completely through his midsection, leaving Elijah’s intestines spilling out of his stomach. Xander emptied the contents of his own stomach onto the sand. He wanted to believe that everything would be okay. With every fiber of his being he yearned to ignore the gasping breaths Elijah seemed to be inhaling at a slower rate with each passing second. He wanted to ignore the pallid shade of Elijah’s skin, or his eyes slowly rolling back in his head and becoming glazed over. He wanted to ignore the fact that Elijah was no longer drawing in breaths and was lying motionless on the hot sand. He wanted to ignore the fact that his best friend was now lying lifeless on the sand, a slight smile visible on his face even in death.
He awoke with a start, his heart beating unnaturally fast, and his skin clammy. Every night it was the same nightmare. First, he saw the crash happen in the sky, and then he watched Elijah die on the sand. Xander still blamed himself for Elijah’s death. If only he were a more talented pilot. If only he had been able to swerve out of the way after Elijah’s plane had suddenly rolled towards his own. If only somehow Xander had been able to stop the bird that had flown straight at Elijah’s windshield. If only Xander had more medical training and could have somehow kept the two halves of Elijah’s body from bleeding out. But he wasn’t good enough.
…
When Xander had awoken from his nightmarish sleep, it was already late afternoon. He heard the familiar sound of the garage door opening, and two voices- one deep and raspy, and the other younger and laughing. Damian entered the house carrying Isaac’s backpack and set it down on the kitchen counter. Isaac followed quickly behind him laughing at one of his own jokes. Xander’s older brother Damian had been particularly helpful in bringing Isaac home from school to help Xander get a few more hours of sleep during the day.
“Go upstairs and get changed out of your school clothes,” Damian said faintly from downstairs. Xander could hear the pounding of Isaac’s feet on the stairs as he raced up to his room. Xander finally pulled himself out of his bed and over to his dresser. He opened his top drawer and pulled out his favorite plastic bag, the one that contained his Xanax, the only thing that kept him mostly sane. He had been taking two Xanax a day since he had come back from his tour and found that he saw Elijah’s lifeless body every time that he closed his eyes and slept. Xander had self diagnosed himself with PTSD after he had returned from his fourth tour with his right leg completely encased in a white medical cast. In the same crash that had killed Elijah, Xander’s femur had snapped like a twig, leaving him hobbling around like an idiot when he had finally returned home to his family. It had been an easy decision to leave the military behind him. Elijah’s death had served as a wake up call for Xander to spend as much time with Maria and Rose as possible, before they, too, inevitably died. Xander opened the plastic bag that he had taken out of his drawer and took out two white pills that were shaped like rectangles. He found a glass of water and swallowed them both before putting the bag back in his top drawer.
Xander looked outside his window at the golden afternoon and felt grateful to have escaped the military when he did. He would never want that life for his kids, least of all his oldest, Rose. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about her joining the Kings, either. He would make sure of that.
